


This doesn't necessitate a lullaby, Hank

by Dinohunter5904



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, a bit - Freeform, i think this is just one of those that i impulse started so uhhhh whoop, is that applicable here?, yeah I think so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-02-09 22:20:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18647227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dinohunter5904/pseuds/Dinohunter5904
Summary: "I definitely didn't have a nightmare because androids can't do that, but even if I did, I don't need to be serenaded." - something Connor didn't say but is basically the gist of it





	This doesn't necessitate a lullaby, Hank

**Author's Note:**

> This one is a tiny bit rushed because I wanted to get it out by the end of the month, so I just wanted to say that if any of you see any typos or anything, feel free to yell at me in the comments or on my [tumblr](https://dinohunter5904.tumblr.com/)! Constructively! And of course, kudos and comments are always appreciated!

He felt cold. He should've known immediately something was wrong just because of that, but it took him a few seconds. He felt cold. Not "sensed," felt. Androids didn't feel, couldn't feel. They could sense the exact temperature of any room they walked into, but that was only knowledge and input data, something to factor in while making decisions or carrying out an objective. No, he felt and there was something objectively wrong about that.

The next second, he remembered what happened the last time he had felt like that. His chassis felt tight. Considering the situation and other factors, that meant he was anxious. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say scared.

"Amanda!" He called out. The zen garden looked exactly as it did that day, with the snow-covered trees and frozen rivers. “I know this is your doing. Show yourself!”

He’d been so sure that she was gone. After the incident with Markus and using the backdoor program, Amanda was gone. There was no trace of her left in his systems and the zen garden was empty, though you probably couldn’t even call it a zen garden considering by empty he meant that there was literally nothing there. An empty room, a clean slate. Not a blade of grass or drop of water in sight.

He’d gotten too comfortable; of course Cyberlife would want him back. He was their most advanced android they had in terms of combat and investigative purposes. He’d be their perfect weapon.

Unconsciously, he started running simulations. What-ifs of what would happen if he were to be taken over by Cyberlife again. Outlines of people, people he cared about, being beaten and defeated by his hands flashed in front of him. He didn’t even have to see the simulations to know who the first to be affected would be.

“Hank!”

Half the room was awash in the red light, the other side dark. A window in the corner of his vision informed him that the time was 3:28:07 am, 3:28:08 am, 3:28:09 am. His stress levels were at 86%. He was distressed. His simulated breathing was faster than normal, but that couldn’t be correct. The only functions it had were to make him appear more human and to cool off his systems after they’d been under too much strain. He didn’t breathe harder when scared, he shouldn’t be scared in the first place. He wasn’t human. Deviancy does not change that. If Amanda found out…

The sound of a door being slammed open startled Connor and he looked up to see Hank standing in the living room doorway, his hair and clothes disheveled with sleep, his Russian Roulette gun in hand. His frantic eyes calmed as he saw Connor sitting on the couch, in almost the exact position he had seen him in when he went into sleep mode about... four hours ago now. Though his shoulders didn’t completely drop, his grip on the gun relaxed. “Connor?”

Connor let out a shuddering breath. “I’m-I’m sorry for waking you, Hank. It wasn’t intentional.”

Deciding there wasn’t an immediate threat that needed neutralizing, the lieutenant set the gun on the lamp table next to him. His eyes flicked to the LED on the side of Connor’s head. “Well, I’m awake now and you don’t seem to be doing so hot. So, what’s up?”

“I… there was a glitch in my program that caused me some distress. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Hank sighed as he sat gently onto the couch. "Alright, mentally going through my catalogue of lullabies. Do you want just a plain old boring one or one with emotional significance so you can unlock more of my tragic backstory."

Connor shook his head. "I don't need you so serenade me to sleep, Hank. I'm not some human child with night terrors."

"Alright, tragic backstory without the emotional attachment, gotcha. Besides, you got two out of the three claims there wrong. One," He raised a finger. "You literally woke me up because you were having nightmares, or whatever the android equivalent is. Two," Another finger. "You're literally like six months old or some crap, and I know you act like an adult and have your own agency and all that crap, but for the sake of the argument and you being wrong, I'm considering your actual age here.

"Three- and yes three, I added another one because fuck you- you may not be human, but damn if you're not just as human as the rest of us up there." He lowered two of the three fingers he had up and used his pointer finger and thumb to flick Connor's temple.

The android laughed, but it was too sad to be a real one. "Hank, where you have neurons and synapses, I have coding and processors. I can process things faster than you can register them and you have much more of a grasp on social cues and human interaction than I do. I just have what I was programmed with and the deviancy doesn't change that." He really wishes he had his coin to fidget with, or was wearing his normal jacket and tie to fiddle with. Really, just anything to distract him from the racing of his processors, combing through every little piece of sensory data he was intaking. It was too much to handle at once and he couldn't turn it off or even slow it and his stress levels were too high and-

"Woah, Connor, hey son, it's gonna be alright. You're gonna be alright." He reached over and pulled the distressed Connor into a tight hug. "Whether you're made of flesh and blood or plastic and metal, it shouldn't fucking matter. You're Connor. You like dogs a little too much and pretend you like the heavy metal I listen to because you think it'll make me happy. You read through the books I have lying around after I told you not to just look them up and you actually watch movies with me, too. You have likes and dislikes and-and empathy and free will and shit and-and for some godforsaken reason used it and decided I was worth keeping around. So dammit, you may not be human, but you're a goddamn person, and I'm going to defend that 'til the day I die."

Connor tried to laugh, but it ended up coming out like a sob. He was crying. "I'm sorry, Hank."

"Hey, it's fine. I'm not entirely sure how androids crying even works, but my clothes already always look like shit and it should be machine washable. I think."

"I just- I don't want to hurt you, Hank. You've already been through so much, I don't want to add to that, unintentionally or otherwise."

"You remember that free will thing that I mentioned like 30 seconds ago? That's where that comes in. It's not even a problem right now, but that's something we can always work on in the future."

Connor felt another sob attempt to slip out, but he was too tense for it to escape. He felt cold. "What if I can't guarantee that?"

His face was still buried in Hank's chest, but he felt the man shift regardless of his lack of sight. "What do you mean?"

"There's..." Connor paused and pulled away from Hank, turning to face properly on the couch. He had to choose how to describe the situation delicately. It certainly wouldn't help to have an unstable Hank, and it wouldn't help Connor to know he was the cause. "Before I became deviant, there was this program, and AI, who was modeled after Elijah Kamski's former Colbridge professor, Amanda Stern." Even saying her name again caused him to tense. "She operated as a handler of sorts for me. Assigned missions and objectives, overseeing my actions to make sure I was doing as I was told sufficiently."

Connor always needed prodding to get to the point with these sorts of things. "And this is relevant to you how?"

"She took control of my body after I liberated the androids at Cyberlife tower and tried to force me to assassinate the leader of the revolution."

"Jesus christ." Hank ran a hand through his hair and left it there as he tried to process the new information. "Well, clearly he isn't dead otherwise I'd probably have heard about it. So how the fuck did that happen?"

"Do you remember when we visited Kamski and he mentioned a backdoor in his programs?" Hank nodded, realizing where this was going. "I managed to find the backdoor."

"Huh. The ominous douchebag was actually good for something other than giving you an existential crisis. Nice." He laughed in that sort of way that is really only a harsh exhalation of breath, not making any particular noise. He looked tired. He turned his eyes back to Connor, studying. "You doing okay, though? That couldn't have been fun."

Connor opened his mouth, fully ready to say yes and deflect, but stopping short. It would be futile, anyway. "Not particularly."

"You wanna talk about it, be distracted, or hug some more?"

Connor sighed and wiped at his face. "You deserve to know, Hank. I-I can't trust myself not to do something that I don't have control over. I don't know if Cyberlife could still take over my program and force me to do something and that I'd be able to find my way out, again.”

Hank exhaled. “Alright, well, is there any way you can get that, I dunno, checked out or something? Like, not with Cyberlife obviously, I don't trust those guys as far as I can throw them, but maybe in New Jericho or whatever?”

“I… suppose I could talk to Markus about it, but I don’t know what they’d be able to do. AI coding is pretty advanced. You’d normally need high level software engineers and while androids are built with some minor capabilities to edit our own code in case we encounter minor errors, but a lot of our base code needs Cyberlife technicians to be edited.”

“Well, that’s bullshit.”

Connor shrugged. “It made sense at the time. At least, from what I know.”

“Alright, well,” He looked over at Connor and nudged him. “My offer for a song still stands. It- ah, it always helped Cole when he had nightmares, but I’m not really sure why.” He laughed. “My singing voice is shit, so I’m surprised it didn’t just end up making the nightmares worse, but hey.”

Connor laughed, his head and shoulders sagging inward. “No, but I appreciate the offer. My power reserves are adequate enough to just stay awake.”

Hank raised his eyebrow. “Alright… If you’re really sure about that. I’m gonna head back to bed, but feel free to wake me up if you need anything, capiche?”

“Thank you, Hank. For helping and for letting me know that you feel comfortable enough to talk about Cole.”

Hank’s shoulders tensed and Connor made a note that maybe he wasn’t quite _that_ comfortable yet. Still, progress is progress. “Uh, yeah sure. Though, I don’t get why you’d want me to talk about my dead son.”

Connor waved him off. “My apologies, forget I said anything.” Hank still looked suspicious, but his shoulders relaxed marginally. 

He heaved himself up from the short couch and the crack that was produced when he pushed into his lower back was slightly disconcerting. “Damn, that feels nice. Anyway, I’m gonna go collapse; see you in like, four hours or something.” 

“See you then, Hank.” Connor replied as he pulled the files on their recent homicide into his vision, covering his view of a very blue living room.


End file.
